Wish You Were Here
by hestia-jones85
Summary: Friends or family? One brother chooses the first, the other the second – and their choices tore them apart. Yet Regulus never hated Sirius. Songfic featuring Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here.


I enter my brother's abandoned room quietly, afraid that someone might catch me in the act. Ironically, there is no one to fear. My parents have gone to attend a party, and Kreacher is downstairs in the kitchen.

I lock the door as soon as I have entered. I take the room in.

Not much has changed since the day my errant brother left home in high dudgeon. The banners and posters still hang rebelliously and clothes are strewn about on the floor. The only addition is a network of cobwebs which have arranged themselves around the room in an almost aesthetic manner.

On an impulse, I raise my wand and the cobwebs vanish. As for the clothes lying on the floor, I consider them for a whole minute before deciding to leave them as they are. Then, I proceed to search for the one thing I have ventured to the room for – my brother's old record player. I know Sirius didn't take it with him when he ran away, so it must be there in the large wardrobe.

I open the wardrobe. The record player isn't there.

Dismayed, I turn around and sweep the room with my eyes – there is no place for the record player to stay hidden unless –

I fall to my knees and check under the bed. It is lying there innocently. I summon it with my wand and it zooms towards me. I pick it up and place it on the bed.

The strange black disc is sitting there – _broken._

I don't know why, but my heart drops upon seeing this. I had hated my brother's guts for bringing Muggle artifacts into the house. Why am I so upset to discover one of them isn't going to work anymore? Especially when this – this song which had been mocking me –

I am not –

Although I feel my impending insanity beckoning me, I am here for completely sane reasons. The summer my brother left, he used to play a few songs in his room. He did it mainly to annoy my parents, and my mother would retaliate by denying him meals. But he played them anyway, and there was nothing on earth which could stop him. When my father went to his room to blast the record player – I know its name because Sirius kept saying it just to annoy our parents – the device had disappeared. Whatever magic my father had at his disposal failed to find it.

I spied on Sirius just to try and solve the riddle. I would be up early morning and I confess I had resorted to peeping at keyholes. I once saw him placing it on his bed and playing it. But everytime, Sirius beat all of us to it; by the time we forced his door open, the record player would be gone. The battle went on for three weeks and we had no option but to become bitterly resigned to the songs.

To this day, I suspect Sirius was hiding it with a sly combination of powerful non-permanent Sticking Charm and Disillusionment Charm. The knowledge doesn't matter now.

There was one song which Sirius played frequently. I don't know if it had been special to him in any way, but he played it most of the time. I never quite understood the import of the lyrics then. However, for some time…that song has been playing in my head – droning, almost. It has stuck to my consciousness like a vice. I have to shut my ears automatically, even though Sirius is no longer with us, playing the song with a smirk on his face.

I came to destroy the record player. It doesn't make sense – this device hasn't been touched for more than two years and the black disc is broken, yet I'm sure it's existence has something to do with the words playing in my head.

But –

Now that I've found it, I ache to listen to it and confront it. I ache to establish some sort of connection with my losses. Some sort of anchor to the reality of things so that I would no longer fester in denial. I ache to indulge in a bit of nostalgia, a bit of remorse, a bit of penance.

I take out my wand and point it at the disc. _"Reparo!"_

The disc is repaired. I hesitate for a few seconds before firing a charm at the door. Kreacher doesn't need to report to my mother I have been listening to Muggle music. Then, I play it, holding my breath in anticipation for the music to come.

It arrives, blasting the floodgates of so many memories as clear as daylight.

_So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,__  
__blue skies from pain.__  
__Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?__  
__A smile from a veil?__  
__Do you think you can tell?_

I stood numb by my brother's bed.

Sirius was sprawled on the large four-poster bed. He lay on his stomach and let Kreacher apply ointment on the welts across his back. He had stuffed his face onto his pillow, and he did not show any indication that his younger brother was there.

"Sirius?" I said tentatively.

When my brother did not reply, I fell silent. I decided to wait for Kreacher to leave before speaking up again.

Kreacher left the room five minutes later, wearing a heavy scowl on his face.

"Sirius?" I tried again. This time, Sirius mumbled an almost inaudible answer.

"I'm sorry," I said in a rush. I instantly bit my lips as soon as those words had escaped them.

Sirius looked up. "I told you not to apologize for mother, Reg. Are you so daft that I've to keep telling you the same thing over and over again?"

I faltered; I never quite knew how to handle Sirius when he flew into his temper. However, I summoned courage because I cared for my brother. "I'm sorry because I never stop her."

Sirius considered me with a slight sneer. However, he smiled the next instant and hid his face among the pillows again.

"Why do you have to irritate her, Sirius?" I asked beseechingly. "She was so upset when you got into Gryffindor, and now you've gone ahead and put up these banners and Muggle posters. Why do you have to go against your family?"

Sirius sat up suddenly. "What do you expect me to do? Take all that rubbish about my friends quietly?"

I took a step back before replying. "Family comes first, Sirius. Mother is the one who raised you, not your friends. We ought to obey her and make her proud of us."

Sirius laughed. "You think that's smart, do you? Following their beliefs blindly just because they are our parents? Reg, the choice is between what's right and what's wrong, and not parents and friends!"

"I don't agree with you," I said, my heart beating wildly because I have never told my brother this truth before.

The sneer crept into Sirius' face again. "I never expected you to."

_And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?__  
__Hot ashes for trees?__  
__Hot air for a cool breeze?__  
__Cold comfort for change?__  
__And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?_

I had just stepped down from the carriage when someone appeared at my side.

"Sirius!" I exclaimed in shock.

Sirius didn't greet me in reply but took me by my arms.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to free myself of my brother's firm grip.

"I need to talk to you," replied Sirius curtly. He steered me away from the crowd and forced me to tag along till we had reached a secluded niche in the corner.

I gave him my coldest stare as soon as we had pulled to a stop. "What do you want?"

Normally, Sirius would have raised his eyebrows at my tone. That day, he pushed it aside. His face expressed nothing but anxiety. "Reg, is it true what I've heard?"

I knew what he was talking about, but I decided to feign innocence. "What have you heard?"

"That – that you have joined the Death Eaters."

I didn't reply immediately – I was enjoying contemplating Sirius' fears and doubts. He looked much younger than his eighteen year-old self. "Why?" I asked finally. "What is it to you if I have?"

The anxiety mutated into irritation. "Stop playing with me, Reg," he hissed. "Just tell me if you have gone ahead and done something that stupid just to make our parents happy."

"Our parents?" I asked, putting heavy emphasis on the first word. "Are you so sure you're in your right mind? Sirius, you're no longer a part of the Black family. I am the heir now."

Sirius looked stung at the words, but he rallied at once. "I don't care. That's not what I came to talk about. Just answer my question, Reg."

I nodded, prepared to relish the shock that would surely appear on his face.

Instead, Sirius' face looked disappointed. That unnerved me and I lost a little of my smugness.

"Why did you do it, Reg?" he asked in a voice that matched his countenance.

"I joined them because I believe in them," I replied simply. "Their cause and mine are the same. The Dark Lord is changing the present for a better future, and I intend to assist him with it."

"And what is this noble cause you're fighting for?" asked Sirius. There was no mistaking the heavy sarcasm. "Killing innocents by the dozens, eh?"

I raised my hand involuntarily and reply without thinking. "Casualties are bound to occur in a war and I'm prepared to -"

The punch came before I had registered the change in Sirius' posture. I fell on the ground, reeling from the pain which frantically raced all over my face.

"You daft berk!" shouted Sirius, pulling out his wand.

I think that was when I started groping for my own wand, but someone else entered the scene and was pushing Sirius away. Yet another person shielded him from me.

The Marauders had arrived for their friend.

"You arrogant fool!" shouted Sirius. "You think you're doing the "right" thing, eh? Since when have you ever understood the meaning of the word? Since when have you been able to tell the-"

James Potter was pulling him away, and Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew gave me a warning look before following them.

I was left standing alone, blood flowing freely from my nose.

_How I wish, how I wish you were here.__  
__We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,__  
__Running over the same old ground.__  
__What have you found? The same old fears.__  
__Wish you were here._

Sirius and I were lying on the floor, facing the window. Our parents were downstairs with their guest, so there was no worrying about their coming up and ordering me to go to my room. And scolding us for lying on the floor – although it was as clean as the bed.

Sirius told me such fantastic stories. For a ten year old, he spun vivid, elaborate yarns which caused my imagination to soar. For a long time, I believed that the stars were tiny holes in the sky which gave us a glimpse to another world – a better world - Sirius' world, where he maintained we were allowed to roll in the dirt as much as we desired, eat Chocolate Frogs without having to wash our hands, and keep pets other than an owl.

He was building upon that world that night – expanding it, giving it depth. I listened to him, fascinated, but I registered something was missing in his world, something which seemed more important to me than frolicking in the beach like Muggle children did.

"Sirius, what about mother and father? Are they there, too?" I asked, hoping for a  
positive answer.

It took him some time to answer, and I began to fear that our parents wouldn't be there.

"I haven't seen them there as yet," he replied finally.

Was that a yes? Or a no?

"But – but they will be there, won't they?" I asked. "And Kreacher."

When Sirius didn't reply again for a long time, I sat up and looked at him. He appeared less confident, as though he was not sure of the world anymore.

He returned my stare, and he must have seen the worried look on my face, for he smiled to assure me. "I suppose they _might_ come someday," he conceded.

_Wish you were here._

My brother battled for years.

He battled against the very essence of being a Black, a pureblood, a part of the nobility among wizards. He resented my parents' forcing him to shape up, to be firm, to get serious, to _be_ their son. They resented him back because – he just couldn't be what they wanted him to be.

I was caught between them, you see. I loved my parents and I absorbed their teachings to a certain degree. I loved Sirius and the boy he was – the boy I could never be because I was too attached to what he had detached himself from completely. In the end, my being a Black won out, and whatever ties we had were cut.

Yet –

He speaks to me now. He comes into my dreams and says "I told you so." Even that – that small acknowledgement means so much to me.

It will be blatant hopefulness on my part to think that he will forgive me now. So, all I am left with is the comfort that when we meet in that world, we might embrace without hesitation. Perhaps, we might even get to build a castle of sand.

Smiling slightly, I get up from the bed. The song has changed. I make the device stop playing, and search for a spot where I can hide it.

Of course.

I kneel and place the record player on the ground. I cast a permanent Disillusionment Charm over it and send it towards the furthest corner under the bed. Then, I send a Permanent Sticking Charm towards the same direction.

If Sirius ever comes back, he will know where to find it.

***

This songfic was written for an assignment for a class at MNFF beta boards. The song is _Wish You Were Here _by Pink Floyd, released in 1975.

DISCLAIMER: I am not J.. Although everything you can recognize belongs to her.


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